


i didn't come to play it safe; i came to win or lose with you

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:06:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skye’s at the end of her rope. ward might be the only one who understands.</p><p>set midway through S3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i didn't come to play it safe; i came to win or lose with you

sometimes she thinks about her parents. 

she thinks about the way the light used to catch and sparkle in her mother’s eyes. how her father had the kind of happy grin that light up even the darkest shadows of their combined past. how – for a brief time – they were a family.

(she doesn’t think about the woman she called _mom_ who tried to rip her life away from her.)

(she doesn’t think about the man she called dad who saved her from having to make the hardest call yet.)

(she doesn’t.)

skye lifts the glass and knocks back the contents. 

she pretends the world outside doesn’t exist. 

*

they cross paths, occasionally. 

they would, after all; being the kind of opposites that attract and repel like a magnet gone haywire. 

she sees ward with the darkness leaking from his soul like he’s got a cloak of vengeance swirling at his back. 

she wonders what he sees when he looks at her. 

*

she makes progress, on the index. 

and then, suddenly – she _doesn’t_. 

her inhuman culture, this proud and frightened heritage of people that she’s reluctantly inherited – they don’t want to be known. they don’t want to offer their abilities as SHIELD’s defenders, nor do they wish to cause trouble. the last of her mother’s insurgents died out with the quinjet that she pushed into the ocean and may as well have sunk with it, too. 

and skye is learning that being known in the world isn’t always the kind of publicity you want. 

*

lincoln will follow her wherever she goes, regardless of what path she chooses. his is the kind of loyalty money can’t buy. 

(she doesn’t think about how some blood runs thicker than water.)

(she doesn’t think about the kind of loyalty that nearly gets you killed.)

(she doesn’t think about parental figures with fanatical views and unyielding negotiation tactics.)

(she doesn’t.)

instead, she tells lincoln that she needs to track down a lead in italy before it goes cold. when he offers backup, she declines and has another team ready for him to lead in her absence. he won’t be bored – he’ll be busy. 

which is perfect, considering she needs to disappear for a while. 

*

it is a quiet tuesday night when grant ward finds skye in his hotel room. 

he gives her a cordial nod, tosses his gun on the bed, and glances at the phone. “hungry?”

she gives him a weak smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “not really.” 

he ignores her – because he knows her better than they’d both care to admit, knows that she hasn’t eaten in hours, if not the better part of a day – and orders dinner. 

“i’ll be out in a few minutes. there’s money in the safe to tip the server.” 

he doesn’t give her the code to the safe. 

they both know she wouldn’t have asked anyway. 

*

by the time ward emerges from his shower, the food has been delivered and there is a bottle of champagne chilling in the corner. he’d grabbed whatever clothes were handy – a black henley and jeans – and doesn’t bother rearming himself before taking the seat across from her. 

they both know she could kill him where he sits if she so chose. 

“so,” he lifts the covers to their food, and reaches for the champagne. 

skye absently flicks her fingers at the bottle and the cork pops free, wildly flying somewhere across the room. 

“thanks,” ward says, nudging the glass into her waiting hand. “what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

skye doesn’t answer. she sips her champagne and is, despite all appearances to the contrary, a million miles away. 

“right,” ward says to himself, cutting into his steak. “well, it’s nice to have some company for dinner anyway.” 

when she glances up at him, there is a chilling lack of recognition in her eyes that takes more than a few moments to clear. skye blinks, slowly coming back to herself. she takes in the meal before her, picks idly at a few steak fries from the middle of the table. 

the meal is finished in silence and – not wanting to disturb her – ward reaches for his laptop, intending to take care of some emails that have been clamoring for his attention. 

“i miss them,” skye whispers softly, out of nowhere. 

he stills. “yeah?”

this time when her eyes lock on his, they are full of the heartbreak and devastation she’s had locked up tight for the past few months. the crushing agony in them seems almost impossible to survive. tears glimmer the way stars shine and yet, do not fall. 

“yeah.” 

ward sighs heavily, putting his laptop aside. he lifts his arm against the back of the couch and reclines loosely. 

it takes the better part of an hour before skye makes her way over, fitting herself into his side like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

he still waits another five minutes before he dares to kiss her temple, inhaling the familiar scent of gunpowder and caramel. skye holds her breath, holds herself completely still and then tension seeps from her body and she’s leaning into him. 

they ignore the way his shirt grows hot and damp from where her cheek rests. 

*

there are not, in fact, two double beds in his hotel room. 

to be fair, ward wasn’t exactly expecting company. skye wordlessly accepts one of his spare shirts and changes in the bathroom after a quick shower. 

he doesn’t comment on how loosely it hangs on her frame, or the fact that she climbs into bed on the opposite side without protest. 

it feels a little bit like he’s taking his life into his hands when he reaches for one of hers and squeezes loosely. she grips tightly, so hard he almost thinks his fingers might shatter, before letting go. 

she turns over, presenting her back to him. 

(trusting him not to stab her blindly. trusting him with more than words.)

she falls asleep. 

*

when skye wakes up, she’s crying. 

there are tears leaking from her eyes and for the life of her, she can’t stop it. there’s also the steady _thump_ of a heartbeat she knows almost as well as her own. it isn’t until she focuses on its distinct cadence, the way it skips every fifth or sixth beat, how it leaps and then settles, matching the one echoing in her chest. 

ward draws her up with the kind of solid strength that still leaves her a little breathless and props her against the headboard. “have you talked to _anyone_ about this?”

he doesn’t ask about how he woke up with her wrapped around him like a lifeline; doesn’t tell her that she’s a live electrical current of emotion; that he can almost _feel_ the hurt pouring off her in waves. 

“no,” she gasps around a sob. “just you.” 

the burden of knowledge is its own kind of intimacy but this one doesn’t hurt so much as it _means_ something. 

“okay,” he cups both her cheeks, swiping a thumb to catch the tears still falling. “i’ve got you.” 

(she doesn’t say: _please don’t tell anyone_.)

(she doesn’t say: _please don’t let go_.)

she says: “thank you.”

and for now, it is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com)  
> \+ title from dessa's _it's only me_


End file.
